Train Whistle
by Chibi Chiriko
Summary: Soujirou goes a-wandering... and find himself at a crossroad between past, present and future. Or something like that.


DISCLAIMERS: Rurouni Kenshin (c) Nobuhiro Watsuki,   
Jump Comics, Shueisha, Fuji TV and SPE Visual Works.  
All copyrighted characters are used without   
permission; this is a nonprofit work of fanfiction  
written entirely for online entertainment purposes  
only. No copyright infringement intended.   
  
Sou-chan fans, this is your lucky day. And you have  
Tochi-sama to thank for it!  
  
  
  
  
+_~`*`~_+  
  
~#*#~ Train Whistles ~#*#~  
by Chibi-Chiriko  
  
+_~`*`~_+  
  
  
Time,   
I've been passing time watching trains go by   
All of my life   
Lying on the sand watching seabirds fly  
Wishing there would be   
Someone waiting home for me  
Something's telling me it might be you  
It's telling me it might be you   
All of my life  
~*~ It Might Be You  
Stephen Bishop   
  
  
  
Soujirou smiled and waved at the wealthy, happy   
family as they parted at the junction. The mother  
and the father, clad in Western garments and   
emitting the suffocating fragrance of Western   
perfume, bade him goodbye with respectful bows;  
their lovely young daughter looked up at him   
with a charming, expressive smile that locked  
itself away in a casket of memories stored in   
the farthest corners of his brain. He gazed back  
at them with a touch of wistful longing in the   
depths of his clear blue eyes, watching until   
they melted into the crowds and disappeared into  
the crimson horizon a distance away. Then he   
turned with a light easy step and went about his  
own way.   
  
A sweep of the cool twilight breeze played with the  
tendrils of his soft dark hair, keeping him company   
as he walked down the road, blending in with the hosts  
of humanity keeping to his side, lost in his cheerful  
smile as others were in the murmurs of polite   
conversation.   
  
  
  
He had met that well-to-do family in a small restaurant  
somewhere along the streets of Nagoya. They had taken a  
liking to him at first sight, the daughter especially,  
intrigued by the unfailing smile on his lips and his  
eternally delightful nature. So they asked him to join  
them on a train to Yokohama, even offering to pay for   
his ticket, earnestly wanting nothing more than his   
company.   
  
At first, the young man had half a mind to refuse. What  
right had *he*, a stranger, to join them in their luxuries  
and impose on their kindness? But he had liked the feeling  
of being on the receiving end of generosity, especially  
from these warm, kind people, and he couldn't remember a   
time in his life when a single person wanted him for   
*himself* and not for some twisted purpose or maleficent  
scheme. So, happy to oblige and reluctant to disappoint  
them, he accepted.   
  
And he was grateful to have made the right decision.   
  
  
  
  
Now, he stood alone at the river banks, gazing into the  
distance as evening drew near. The brilliant grappling   
of gold and scarlet hues over a sky dimly lit by the   
setting sun reflected in his mystified cerulean orbs.   
A path of shimmering amber rippled across the river,   
making the water sparkle. The fresh smell of grass after  
a recent rainshower hung in the air, making him inhale  
deeply as he reveled in the situation, in the beauty of  
it all.   
  
Soujirou loved sunsets, he found simple pleasure in   
watching the warring colors of afternoon at night   
engage in a splendid conflict in the backdrop of the  
sky. These little details were what grabbed at him the   
most: the ringing melody of birdsong, the intricate  
web of patterns of shadows against the pavement, the  
feel of the warm summer breeze and the lilt of the  
voices of humanity above all else. It had been two  
years into his journey, and yet it was as though he  
was discovering the world for the very first time,  
each new day bringing exquisite new surprises, each  
new season passing on gracefully, flowing from one  
to the next, beginning and ending with the promise  
of a memory and a tomorrow. Knowing this, the young  
wanderer was, though meandering by himself, never  
truly lonely. He was one with the surrounding splendor  
of reality, and believing this, he was never truly   
alone.   
  
He had been walking for some time, pondering on these  
thoughts, until he realized that it was already dark.   
The sun had gone, the direction of the wind and the tide  
had changed, and hues of midnight blue and black coated  
the early evening sky. Glittering stars were mapped   
across the velvety darkness, winking conspirationally  
down at the awed youth, who had stopped to stare for   
a moment at the charms of the night.   
  
But the magic of the moment was broken by a loud rasp  
which caused a flutter of start to course through the  
boy's shoulders.   
  
"Oi, you there! You plannin' a' stay out there all night  
long? Why doncha come inside and have a hot dinner meal?  
And I mean 'hot!'"   
  
The speaker was a man well into his forties, dressed simply  
in a rugged white shirt and tattered trousers. His speech  
was slurred, as though he had been drinking all night long,  
and Soujirou was doubtful. Yet he was hungry, and it seemed  
like he had nothing to lose if he played along, so he   
reluctantly followed the man down the road.   
  
The man led him to a tumbledown tavern at the end of the  
path, stationed near the edge of the forest. Soujirou   
eyed the place warily, instincts kicking in. It didn't  
look very stable; the rickety walls enclosing the place  
looked like they could collapse any day now. The sound of   
rambunctious laughter and other indications of your usual   
activity inside such hangouts could be heard over the   
whining wind. The odor of heavy liquor-- and something else--   
floated outside.   
  
"Come on in!" the man yelled, pushing the door open  
and shoving the boy in. Soujirou blinked as the glare  
of artifical light greeted him, then looked up at   
the hosts of people who didn't even notice his   
presence as they were too caught up in gambling and  
drinking.   
  
Suddenly feeling nervous, Soujirou looked around for   
the man who had brought him here, but he was nowhere  
to be found. Uneasy, and wondering whether he ought to  
leave, he found a place at the farthest corner of the  
tavern and settled down near the window, trying to  
shut out the noise as he peered outside. His stomach  
growled in complaint.   
  
The sound of high-pitched girlish giggling snapped  
him to attention. He looked up to see two tall,   
graceful women headed toward his table, their trays  
full of every kind of delicacies imaginable in a place  
like that. His cheeks grew warm as he observed how...  
*revealing* their kimonos were, how thin the fabric,   
and how carelessly open the collars were.   
  
"G-Gomen nasai," he stammerd, hastily rising as they  
approached his table. "I-- I didn't know you were   
seated here and..." He broke off as the ladies took  
in the flustered expression on his face and broke into  
peals of amused laughter.   
  
"Sumanu," he whispered, glancing down at his feet.   
His cheeks turned even hotter.   
  
"Oh, he's so adorable," one of them drawled, taking   
his face in her palm. Green eyes shone like emeralds  
as they bore into his own sapphire depths, searching.  
"Why, he's just a baby after all!"  
  
"No experience, you say?" the other commented, and  
Soujirou's heartbeat quickened at the mesmerizing  
loveliness of her face and the odd familiarity of her  
blue-gray eyes. "What a shame."  
  
Not daring to question what experience exactly he   
*didn't* have, he backed away against the wall. "Um,  
do you want me to go?" he asked faintly.   
  
The woman with the blue-gray eyes smiled warmly. "Oh,  
not at all dear," she said in a friendly tone. "Here,  
sit down with us and keep us company-- we rarely get  
enough refreshing companions here nowadays. Have a   
plate." She handed him a small plate of riceballs and  
chopsticks.   
  
"Thanks," he said, flashing her a grateful smile as  
he dug into his meal.   
  
The green-eyed woman was eyeing him intently. "So, what's  
your name, sweetie?" she inquired. "You don't look old  
enough to be in places like this."  
  
"I'm Soujirou and I'm twenty years old," the boy replied,  
dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "I'm  
pleased to meet you... and thanks for the meal."  
  
"You know," Green Eyes murmured to him, with a dangerous  
look on her face, "you need to be *twenty-one* to be  
in here legally."   
  
"Misato-chan!" Blue-Gray Eyes scolded. "Don't scare the   
poor dear like that. It's all right, Sou-chan, no one else  
has to know. Here, have my fish."  
  
"I won't be able to repay you for this," Soujirou realized  
suddenly, guilt and shame drowning his smile. "I don't have  
any money, and I don't know how to do anything..." {Except  
killing}, he finished silently in his mind.   
  
"Don't worry your pretty little head about that, now,  
honey," Misato exclaimed cheerfully, tousling his   
disheveled shock of dark hair, and Soujirou wondered  
why they kept treating him like a little girl. "You  
don't have to repay us at all-- your presence here  
with us is enough. Ritsuko-chan and I will cover for  
you in case anyone's suspicious, you have nothing to  
fear. We like you, you know. You're so cute and sweet  
and charming with that lovely little smile of yours."  
She chuckled and pinched his cheek.   
  
Soujirou thought he was about to faint, with all the  
blood rushing to his face and his poor smile turning  
sickly with all the embarrassing compliments. He glanced  
desperately at Ritsuko, who was trying hard to stomach  
her laughter.   
  
Then it happened. A fat, surly man who reeked of   
cigarettes and sake sauntered over toward the table.   
He slung an arm around Misato, whose face took on  
an annoyed expression.   
  
"Ne, Misato-chan," he said huskily, bringing his face  
close to hers. Misato forced a weak smile. "Wanna join  
me upstairs for a ride to the stars?"  
  
"How much?" Misato inquired curiously, aware of Soujirou  
and Ritsuko staring at her.   
  
"That'll depend." A wide, open-mouthed grin revealed  
gaps between teeth, releasing a foul odor that made   
the trio at the table flinch. Nevertheless, Misato rose  
to her feet and smiled at her friends.  
  
"Ja, Ritsuko-chan," she said, with a hint of underlying  
sadness in her tone. "Take care, Sou-chan." She planted  
a quick kiss on top of his head before stringing her arm  
through the man's and leading him away.   
  
Soujirou frowned in confusion. "Ritsuko-san, where is  
Misato-san going?" he queried. "What were they talking  
about?"  
  
Bemusement and surprise flickered across Ritsuko's face.  
"Wait a minute... I thought you were kidding when you  
put up that naive front-- are you saying you *really*  
don't know?" she gasped.   
  
Soujirou scratched his head. "I don't understand," he  
said slowly. "What *is* this place, Ritsuko-san?"  
  
Ritsuko blinked, then chuckled, although her laughter  
sounded anything but cheerful. "You blundered into a  
tavern, Sou-chan," she said gently, "and there are   
several rooms upstairs where men and women... copulate."  
  
"What does 'copulate' mean?"  
  
Ritsuko sweatdropped. "You really don't *know*, do you?"  
she exclaimed in amazement. "Boy, didn't your mother ever  
*explain* the basic facts of life to you?"  
  
Sadness lurked at the corners of the young wanderer's   
cornflower eyes. "I never knew Okaasan," he said softly.  
"I was raised by people whom I could never call a family,  
and I never knew anyone I could call a mother except..."  
His voice trailed off.   
  
"Do you ever wonder what your mother might be wondering  
right now if she were still alive?" Ritsuko mused, her  
eyes focusing on a point in the distance. "I once had   
a son whose face I don't even remember. I was in   
pain, and all I could hear were his cries... and he   
was taken away from me before I could promise him my  
love... your mother must be feeling the way I am now,  
and I would imagine my son, wherever he is, if he had  
your affectionate spirit, would be looking just the   
way you do now."  
  
Soujirou glanced at her and saw her eyes sparkling with  
moisture. A hollow, bitter ache tugged at his heart, and  
he gently rested his hand over hers. "Ritsuko-san," he  
whispered quietly. "Would you like me to be your son   
tonight?"   
  
Unexpected hope flared in those blue-gray eyes as she  
stared in wonderment at the boy. "Sou-chan," she said  
breathlessly, "do you really mean that? Would you have  
me as your mother, even just this once? Would you give  
me the chance, oh, dear boy!" Tears trailed down her  
cheeks, unchecked.   
  
Soujirou, too, was crying. "I want this chance," he  
sobbed, a fairly hopeful smile curling up on his lips.  
"Just for once, to have a mother..."   
  
"Then come along." Wiping away the last of her tears,  
Ritsuko gracefully rose to her feet and looked around  
suspiciously. Fortunately, everyone else was to engrossed  
in their business to notice them. No one noticed as  
they silently sneaked away.   
  
  
  
In one of the rooms upstairs, the silvery arm of the   
moonlight illuminated the shadows of mother and son  
in a dreary, dusty room. The mother was tucking the   
boy in, whispering to him tenderly as she pulled the   
blankets over him to protect him from the cold. The   
wind sighed as it witnessed a loving embrace in the  
darkness, before deciding to subside and give them   
a moment of warmth.   
  
Across the floor, another slant of light struck an   
old portrait starting to yellow around the corner with  
age. It was the picture of a charming young man with  
piercing blue eyes and raven black curls. A familiar,  
recognizable smile played at the corners of his thin  
lips, and a broadsword hung at his waist. His name  
was scripted across the bottom of the page.   
  
The name was Seta Sanshiro.   
  
OWARI  
4/7/00  
  
Ack! *runs away and hides* Corny, wasn't it? Gomen, gomen!  
  
I won't bore you with long, meaningless notes this time.  
Just wanna say that the second paragraph, the one about  
how the wind swept past him as he went on his way, was  
loosely based on that line in Sou-chan's image song   
"Journey", the line that goes "I'll go where the direction  
of the wind blows" (or something like that!). And yeah,   
I used the first names of Katsuragi Misato and Akagi   
Ritsuko for the names of the two whores-- I didn't   
exactly feel like coming up with new Japanese names.   
  
As I may have mentioned before, I like open endings, so  
I left it at that. It sort of implies the chance that  
Ritsuko *might* be the mother of Soujirou, but then   
again, maybe not. 'Twas Sou-chan's fault for not mentioning  
his surname when he introduced himself and 'twas my fault  
for not making him mention his surname. ^^;; I didn't   
think it was time for him to know yet. Personally, I   
*think* Ritsuko's really his mom, but I wouldn't know  
for sure, and your guess is just as good as mine. ^_^;  
  
Despite the difficulty I had coming up with a solid plot,  
I kind of enjoyed writing this story, and bringing out  
the innocent, vulnerable side of our precious little  
rurouni-chan. He's just soooooooo cute! *snoodle* OK,  
I'm babbling now so I better stop before you all start  
flaming me for notes longer than the fic itself so...  
bye bye!  
  
~~Chibichan (I need Weiss, I need Weiss, I need Weiss...)  
  
P.S. This fic is dedicated to Tochi-sama, Jessica and a   
certain Prince ^.^ God bless you all, and domo arigatou   
gozaimasu! 


End file.
